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DISCOURSE, 



ON 



THE OCCASION OF THE DEATH OF THE 



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DELIVERED IN 



THE COLLEGE CHAPEL, ATHENS, GA., 



ON THE 



23d June, 1839. 



By Rev. WIIITEFOORD SMITH, A. SI. 

OF THE METHODIST E. CHUUCII. 



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ATHENS, (..\. 



IS39. 



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DISCOURS 



THE OCCASION OF THE DEATH OF THE 

DELIVERED IX 

TKE QOLLEGE CHAPEL, ATHENS, GA., 

0* THE 

23d Jane, 1839. 





By Kev. WHITEFOORD SMITH, A. HI. 

OF THK METHODIST E. CHUllCIT. 






9 ATHENS, GA. 






^ •, nr tho following Discourse takes occasion to say. that not having 

1,1 nprmit Feeling that some apology is due lor tno pu i 
memory would permit. reenn r n f several of the oh Ulren 

cerost diffidence to the public. 



HEJ&MMSc 



« Then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up 

in victor)'. 

" O death ! where is thy sting ? O grave * where is thy victory ? 

" The sting of death is sin ; and the strength of sin is the law. 

" But thanks be to God which giveth us the victory, through our Lord Jesus 

Christ." 

[I. Corinthians, xv. 54, 55, 5G, 57. 

To die is the universal destiny of man. From that fearful hour 
in which he first disobeyed his Maker, he has felt the power of the 
stern decree ; '-'dust thou art, and unto dust shy.lt thou return.*' — 
The sting- of the tyrant became a sceptre of dominion, and the gen- 
erations of men have acknowledged its sway. The world, which in 
the morning of creation, "bore in itself the germs of an universal 
paradise," has boon changed into one vast charnel-house for its sons. 
Nature, too, has experienced the dire effects of the first transgression, 
and become subject to change and decay. The wave of sin as it 
rolled over the earth, betokened the coming of a still wilder storm. 
And it came ; desolating the loveliness of the new creation, and 
sweeping the world < : as with the besom of destruction." The ge- 
nial rays of the sun. which should have vivified the earth, and caus- 
ed it to bud and bring forth spontaneously its fruits for the use of 
man, became a burning heat, parching its soil— the I sws 

which once fell in Eden, ceased ; and the rain which wa .til- 

ted, came attended with the violence of the ton ind the thun- 

der of the storm. The very earth itself, whose fruitful bosom yield- 
ed a generous maintenance for all animated nature, fell the mighty 
curse, whieh changed its fruitfulness to barrenness ; and bade il 
with reluctance give to man bread for his sweat, and bul a scanty 
portion for his constant toil. But, most of ail. man hit the dn 
ful change. Banished from Paradise, the world was before him, a 
wilderness. The conscious innocence, which before had gladdt D 



his heart was gone ; and guilt had acquired the supremacy. His di- 
rect intercourse with Go J had cease J. an 1 his Mak3r and friend had 
become his foe. Amid the tumult which raged within, how awful, 
we may imagine, must have been his impressions, when the l;ody 
of the murdered Abel, as it lay before him, first illustrated the truth 
that man could die. Previous to the entrance of sin his existence 
had no limit. No dark apprehension of such a change rested upon 
his mind. Life was his, and the prospect of its continuance was 
boundless. Could such a thought have been conceived as that of 
Daath, in a state of innocence and purity, it could have been ac- 
companied with no terror: " For the sting of death is sin." The 
law gave to sin its strength. Demanding the strictest and most con- 
stant obedience to all its precepts, and condemning every omission 
of what was required, and every violation of what was forbidden, 
it brought man into a continual sense of condemnation, because his 
whole rmral nature had become corrupt, and all the motions of 
his flesh were sin. Turn which way he would, and do what he 
might, he could only feel continually that he was a servant of the 
law of sin which was in his members. The anticipation of death 
was now the looking for of judgment and fiery indignation which 
must consume him as an adversary of God. Imagine, then, for a 
moment, that all the successive generations of men had become in- 
volved in this common ruin— that death was the lot of all, and the 
terror of death the unmixed apprehension of retributive justice, back- 
ed as it washy the omnipotence of the Deity, and you have some 
idea of the condition of the whole human family, without a Saviour. 
And was this our condition ? And was there no help ? Was this 
universal law, in its deep and spiritual import, to extend to all? — 
Was death to have the victory over us all, and sin to give him his 
pointed sting? Was the human family on this dreary and down- 
ward passage, to be uncheered by any hope of mercy ; and unaid- 
ed by any hand of power? Was the all-devouring and insatiate 
grave, to cover us in its oblivious folds, and to keep us in everlast- 
ing bondage ? Was the wild cry of despair to ascend from millions 
of voices, and could no help be found ? No— blessed be God. — 
Though the law could whisper no accent of mercy — though death 
knew no relentings — and the grave yearned with no bowels of com- 
passion — there was one higher than the law— more powerful than 
death, and able to ransom from the dominion of the grave. Jesus 
Christ undertook our cause. And "forasmuch as the children 



were partakers of flesh and blood, he also himself likewise took part 
of the same, that through death, he might destroy him that had the 
power of death, that is, the Devil, and deliver them who, through 
fear of death, were all their life-time subject to bondage." And now, 
11 life and immortality have been brought to light" through the Gos- 
pel. Th3 grave is not contemplated as our eternal resting place ; 
but visions of hope flit continually before us ; and we look beyond 
death to th2 inheritance of life forever. 

But the fitness of things has still been retained. To him who 
believes not in the Lord Jesus, and seeks not by patient continu- 
ance in well-doing to inherit honor and immortality, death is as 
terrible as ever. Where sin still reigns in the heart, it is still the 
sting of death; and the sinner contemplates death with horror. — 
But to him who has trusted in the merits of his Saviour, and found 
him precious — upon whose heart the influences of the spirit have 
gently descended, and who has been renewed by its mighty regen- 
erating power—" Death is swallowed up in victory." Knowing 
that the penalty of his sins has been met by the atonement of the 
Son of God— that he has passed from death unto life — that the seeds 
of a spiritual existence have been sown in his heart — he realizes 
comfort and peace from the words of his Lord : " He that iiveth and 
believeth in me, shall never die." He looks upon death as the en- 
trance into a new and happier abode, where the employment of his 
spirit shall be congenial with its character ; and where all that was 
calculated to disturb and disquiet it shall be excluded forever. He 
recurs with joy to the conquest of death and hell by the 3Iessiah ; 
and while leaning his head upon the bosom of his Lord, he fears 
no evil. He asks triumphantly, "O death! where is thy sting? 
O grave ! where is thy victory?" and then he gratefully acknowl- 
edges the goodness and mercy of him, who procured for him this 
triumph: "Thanks be unto God, which giveth us the victorv, 
through our Lord Jesus Christ." 

We are called to-day, beloved brethren, to contemplate this vic- 
tory of Christian faith, as it was exhibited in the last hours of him 
whose remains are now here before us. 

Our departed brother was permitted to attain to the age which 
commonly falls to the lot of men. And like other men, he had • x- 
perienced that this world was one of perpetual vicissitude. Ho 
was one of the earliest graduates of this institution, and one of its 
oldest Trustees. Having realized the benefits of a liberal education 



6 

himself, he was desirous of extending the same advantages to others. 
He was gifted with a high order of talent, which prepared him for 
the responsible duties which his position in society involved. The 
confidence of his fellow-citizens raised him to public office, and he 
received at their hands one ojf the highest distinctions which it was 
in their power to bestow. It rarely falls to the lot of the statesman 
to escape unjust censure from his political opponents; and fre- 
quently this is the meed awarded him by his friends. The busy 
restless, political world, knows not how (o appreciate the character 
of him who, with a consciousness of rectitude which is sufficient to 
sustain him, pursues that course which he honestly believes is right. 
Our brother found it so. In his lust hours he appeared to have be- 
stowed a few thoughts upon the review of his political life. Ad- 
dressing one who was his old associate and bosom friend, he said, 
"his motives had been often misunderstood — he felt that lie might 
have erred— but had faithfully devoted a portion of his life to 
the service of his country; though he claimed no reward, they 
had already rewarded him abundantly/' Had he an enemy ? — (as 
what political man has not?) — had the strife of party ever brought 
upon him the hatred or enmity of any 1 I come commissioned 
from his dying bed, to say to such, if such there be, that he furgave 
them freely, and sent up to heaven for them his ardent prayers.-- 
That mercy which he sought, he generously showed. 

In his domestic relations, as a husband, father and master, none 
could have been more kind, affectionate and gentle. Few families 
have been blessed with such a head ; and very few have felt and 
manifested the same assiduous desire to minister to the happiness of 
one, who was endeared to them by every tie. Peculiarly tender 
was the exhibition of paternal love, which he made before he left 
them. Oh, could you have seen him, as he gathered his children 
around him. and one by one encircled them in his wasted arms, giv- 
ing - them a father's dying benediction, and commending them espe- 
cially to the grace of God, and entreating and exhorting them to 
seek after the kingdom of Heaven, that they might be re-united 
there: you would have been convinced that the flame of parental 
love that burned within that bosom, was one which the cold waters 
of death could not extinguish — that the affection which animated 
that heart, sunk not with the decay of nature's strength. 

Happy that the providence of God had enabled him to leave a 
competency for the maintenance of his family, he adverted with 



7 

gratitude to that. But while he rejoiced that they were thus pro- 
vided for in this life, his chief concern and desire on their behalf 
related to the life to come. He pressed upon them, with unusual 
strength and energy, an exhortation upon this subject, which over- 
whelmed us all. He adverted with regret to the lateness of the pe- 
riod at which he had embraced Christianity. "I have lost oceans 
of happiness by not beginning earlier" was his own emphatic lan- 
guage. And then alluding to the support which it afforded him in 
his afflictions, and the value which he then felt it to be, he told them, 
"if I could leave you all such legacies as I wish, and Christianity- 
were set down at the price of a million, I would rather bequeath you 
Christianity than a million of dollars." He further urged upon them 
its excellence, by virtue of its power to fit them for the duties of life. 
"Cod first, and man afterwards," said he, and then illustrated his 
conviction that a true Christian must be the best philanthropist. 

But there was one dearer to him than all others. She had been 
his guardian angel — his ministering spirit. She had been the wife 
of his youth — <me had been the companion of his journey through 
all its scenes of chancre. When the world wronged him, he knew 
wheve to go for solace and comfort, to one whose bosom was his 
ever happy home. When affliction came, she was still by his side ; 
and when his long protracted sufferings required vigil upon vigil, 
she had an eye that asked no slumber, and a hand that owned no fa- 
tigue. And she it was who had sought for many a year to lead him, 
by her gentle and her winning way, from the turbid streams of earth- 
ly pleasure, to the purer and the better spring at which she drank. 
Hard was the struggle of his soul to leave her. But he gave anoth- 
er and a brighter cast even to this heaviest ill. < ; 'Tis only a jour- 
ney." said he, "and 1 am going a little ahead of yen, and you wil! 
all soon follow." 

" Our dying friends are pioneers, to smooth 
" Our rugged pass to death ; to break those bars 
"Of terror and abhorrence Nature throws 
" 'Cross our obstructed way, and thus to make 
" Welcome, as 6afe, our port from every storm." 

Nor were his servants forgotten. Fixing his eyes on one who 
stood by his bed-side, and who had been constant in Ins services 
throughout his master's illness, he commended him for his fidelity, 
and warned him of thedangers to which he was i and par- 

ticularly of the evil of intemperance j and unable to addresi them 



8 

11, he closed his admonitions to him, by saying, " what 1 say to 
ion, applies to all the rect." 

We have hitherto viewed the character of the deceased only in 
lose points of light which are calculated to increase our sorrow for 
is loss, without affording us any consolation. And if the history 
f his life were here to be wound up, then should we sorrow, " even 
s others which have no hope." But let us now consider the reli- 
ious character of our brother. 

For the greater part of his life, Judge Clayton had been sceptical 
f the truth of Christianity. Though always respectful to those who 
lade a profession of religion, yet he had never submitted himself 
) the cross of Christ, until within the last twelve months. During 
te month of August, 183S, he was attacked with paralysis, and 
»r a short time, lost the use of one hand, and his articulation became 
ery indistinct. Upon the day of his attack I visited him. Know- 
\g that the fears of his family and friends were awakened for his 
ifety, and probably judging, from my presence, that we were partic- 
larly anxious about his spiritual state ; he addressed me as well 
> he was able, in these words, " I think I may safely say, I am pre- 
ared for the event." I replied, that 1 had perceived in his conver- 
sion from time to time some familiarity with the Bible, and hoped 
e had made it a matter of study. His answer was, " No : but in 
[1 my dealings with the world, and in all my acts, I have always 
ad regard to the existence of a just God: and if there is a man I 
ave wronged, I do not know him." Having endeavored to direct 
is mind to the Lord Jesus Christ, as the sacrifice for sin, and to the 
ecessity of the merit of his atonement ; I enquired if it was his 
ish that we should pray ; and he desiring it, the family assembled, 
id we prayed. No opportunity offered, (from the nature of his af- 
iction,) for some days after, for religious conversation. Some short 
me subsequently, however, when he had so far recovered, as to be 
ble to go about, understanding that he desired to see me, I called, 
ccompanied by one of the ministers, who was in attendance at a 
rotracted meeting then in progress. The subject of religion was 
ow introduced, and never had I witnessed so great a change. He 
/ho, but a short time before, had been dwelling complacently upon 
is own virtuous deeds, and even meditating an entrance into eter- 
ity with no other preparation, now sat before me overwhelmed 
rith grief and tears, at the recollection of his ingratitude to God for 
,11 his mercies. He had been employed in reviewing the past, and 



though he found that his conduct toward the world had been equita- 
ble and just, he had also been convinced that his duties toward his 
Maker had been neglected. Now he hid enquired what had kept 
him from being a Christian? and having learned the true state of 
his own heart, this was his candid confession, and at the same time 
his avowal of his purposes. "Sir, I am elctcrmiiicel that pride of 
opinion, which has so long kept me from embracing Christianity, 
shall keep me away no longer."' Nor was he insensible to the diffi- 
culties which must be met in turning to God with repentance and 
faith. "In pursuing this course," said he, "at every step I am met 
by a committal. For all the acts of a man's life arc so many com- 
mittals ; and every act contrary to religion is a committal to vice. 
But shall 1 permit these thino-s to deter me, when I see the extend- 
ed arms of my God, ready to receive me?" 

Having abandoned that pride of opinion, which he felt had so 
long prevented his becoming a Christian, he manifested the great- 
est meekness and docility in the reception of the truth. Sensible 
that in trusting to the merit of his own jjood works he had rested 
upon a frail and weak foundation ; he now desired to place him- 
self upon another and a surer basis. And upon the eternal founda- 
tion of the prophets and apostles, Jesus Christ himself being the 
chief corner stone, there was but one way of successfully building, 
and that was by the exercise of an humble and confiding faith. — 
How simple and how sincere was his reception of the Gospel, may 
be best learned from his own wok' s : " Sir," said he, " I view my- 
self as though I had been a heathen, shut up in darkness and su- 
perstition ; and you, as a missionary of the Cross, (for all ministers 
are, or ought to be missionaries.) were presenting me for the first 
time with the Bible, and although I do not comprehend all that 
may be in it, yet 1 receive it all by faith. I throw away, as the hea- 
then would his idols, all my old systems and views, and adopt this 
for my creed. I take it all." 

The interviews which it was my privilege to enjoy with Judge 
Claytox, subsequent to this, were all of the most delightful char- 
acter. He dwelt with much anxiety upon the subject of his form- 
er opinions, and was especially fearful, lest his infliu I r oth- 
ers might have led them into error, and most earnestly solicitous to 

erase any such impi is wherever they hadl n made. When, 

therefore, he communicated his i f ntt.-icliin^- himself to the 

Church, and mal i public profession of Christianity, knowing 



10 

from his weakness that it would be with difficulty, if at all, that ho 
could attend at the place of worship, I suggested that his wish 
might be made known without his personal attendance. To this, 
however, he immediately objected, desiring, feeble as he was, to per- 
form this act in person, both as a public recantation of his former 
views, and in the hoj c that the influence of his example upon oth- 
ers might be salutary. And accordingly, on the 2Glh August, 183S, 
he presented himself in the presence of a large congregation, ma- 
king an open profession of faith in his Divine Redeemer, and united 
himself with the Methodist E. Church. At this time he had not ex- 
perienced that sense of joy and spiritual communion with God which 
he desired, but was earnestly seeking after the Lord, if haply he 
might find him. Nor did he seek in vain. For but a short time 
had elapsed, after he had taken this decisive step, when he felt the 
springing up of inward comfort, and rejoiced in the clear assurance 
of his sins forgiven. From this time, his whole soul seemed ab- 
sorbed in the great subject of religion. The language of his heart 
appeared to be, " O, how I love thy law ! it is my meditation all the 
day." It was his darling theme of conversation. His very weak 
state of bodily health allowed him to attend at Church but very sel- 
dom, and now he sorrowed that just as he had begun to appreciate 
these religious privileges, he was cut off from their enjoyment. — 
Still he patiently submitted to the will of his Heavenly Father. 

There was one point upon which our departed brother seemed 
particularly sensitive and anxious, from the time of his conversion 
till his death, lie knew full well that there would not be wanting 
those, who would say, that his mind had been enfeebled by his dis- 
ease—that the apprehension of death had alarmed him, and occa- 
sioned his pursuing this course. To the last, this thought seemed 
constantly before him. He adverted to it calmly, but firmly ; ex- 
pressing his conviction that amid the decay of his physical energies, 
his powers of composition and reflection were as strong as ever. — 
And many who visited him during his illness, and even in his dy- 
ing hours, were witnesses of this. Never have I beheld one less agi- 
tated in prospect of death. He spoke of it, not as of an event which 
must happen, and for which he had been preparing himself by the 
principles of a stoical philosophy— not as of an unending sleep, 
where no consciousness of existence should be felt, and where the 
waters of oblivion should wash out all remembrance of the past — 
but he viewed it rationally, as a winding up of the affairs of this 






11 

life, which was to be followed by a rigid scrutiny into all his acts, 
and principles, and motives. Sensible, as every hprn it, dying man 
must be, that in the judgment of an all-wise and holy God, there 
would be found many delinquencies and errors which needed a 
satisfactory atonement, with faith in the record which God had giv- 
en of his son, he reposed in the merits of the sacrifice which he had 
offered for the sins of the whole world. Experiencing the peace 
and joy which attend upon a sense of sins forgiven, he spoke of 
death as though he were " prepared ;" and not only prepared, but 
cheerfully willing and ready to go. He spoke of it as a '■•pleasure;" 
and when asked upon one occasion, what he wished? he answered, 
"To DIE." 

The warm and generous emotions of his heart, were not checked 
by his physical weakness. He had a word of affectionate tender- 
ness for all who visited him. Sitting upon his bed one afternoon 
very shortly before his death, he prayed with great earnestness for 
his enemies, and then observed, < ; I wish that the world could all 
be brought into one embrace, and that embrace were mine ; I would 
throw my arms around them, and bring them all to Christ." 

I called his attention to his expression of "having been prepared 
for the event," when attacked with paralysis last summer : " Ah, 
yes," said he, " I was then trusting in my morality, but it would 
not do." 

Are there any here, who look upon all this as the result of fear ? 
Hear what he bade me tell you : u Say to those sloiit-Iicarlcd sto- 
ics — those men of bravery, who say that this is all fear ; that 
they may cede it so : but who would not fear a Gad .'" 

Surely it can be called no want of reason or of moral courage, 
that man should stand in awe of his great Creator. In the pride o[ 
his ungrateful heart, surrounded by friends and all the pomp of 
power, he is often ready to suppose that the acknowledgment of his 
dependence upon, and obligations to his Maker, involves a weak- 
ness which he would not own. But there must come a time, when 
the proudest and most stubborn feel their utter impotency in his 
hand, lie who can paralyze in a moment the strongest .'inn, and 
still the tongue of the bold blasphemer, must be confessed to be the 
Almighty. Too lone: have men trampled with impious foot the 
sacred canon, and endeavored by dethroning < aid, (■> exalt and de- 
ify what they have termed their reason. Vain and arrogant pre- 
sumption ! If to condemn unread the Book of Revelation— if to 



12 

impugn and vilify the whole system of Christianity, because there 
are some of its truths so sublime and pure that we cannot fully 
comprehend and appreciate them — if this be reason — then folly 
would be bliss. 

" 'Tis Reason otir great Master Iiokls so dear ; 
"Tis Reason's injured rights his wrath resents ; 
•"Tis Reason's voice obey'd his glories crown.: 
" To give lost Reason life he pour'd his own." 

That— 

"The chamber where the good man meets his falo 

" Is privileged beyond the common walls 

" Of virtuous life, quite in the verge of Heaven ;" 

was fully realized by those who were permitted to attend upon our 
lamented brother, in his dying hours. On the Wednesday morn- 
ing before he died, being attacked with violent spasms, his family 
supposed that he was about to be taken away from them. While 
overwhelmed with grief at the anticipation of his loss, they wept 
around him, he ministered consolation to them all. Throughout 
the day those paroxysms continued, and in the afternoon were still 
more violent. It was in the close of one of those agonies, that he 
distinctly, though slowly, uttered these words : " O//. v:hat dark- 
ness? what dismal darkness! {towprofoiind! physically speak- 
ing— but all is bright beyond." He lingered until Friday night, 
slowly sinking; and throughout all this time, never did he seem to 
lose sight of the great object of his faith and hope. Frequently 
and emphatically would he say, "Blessed be God,"— "Blessed be 
God forever." 

And when at last his hour had come, it pleased God to give him 
a cairn and easy passage. As we hung near him to catch his 
last accents, faintly and softly we could hear him murmur, " The 
way is bright"— -Here's room"— -Over Jordan"— "Enter in"— 
" Door is open"— "This is Heaven"— "I'm so happy"—" It is end- 
ed"—" I am through"—" Bless God." These short sentences he 
would frequently repeat, in soft and gentle whispers. But they 
were sufficient to indicate what were the exercises of his mind as 
he passed away. Doubtless, could we have seen as he beheld, 
we should have witnessed the ministering spirits as they gathered 
round, beckoning him onward to the throne of God. Without a 
groan or a struggle, or any of the pangs which usually attend the 
dissolution of man, our brother sweetly breathed his spirit into the 



13 

bosom of his Father and his God ; illustrating what one has so 
beautifully said of the Christian's death : 

" He sets as sets tlic morning stir, which goes 
" Not down behind the darkened west ; nor hides 
" Obscured amid the tempests of the sky ; 
" But melts away into the light of Heav'n." 

From what has been said, and from the brief review which we 
have taken of our brother's history, we learn, first, the goodness and 
long suffering of God. Had our friend been taken from us one 
year earlier, how different would have been our feelings ! Cut it 
pleased God to spare him; and this long-suffering and forbearance 
led him to repentance. Is there one here to-day, who has long liv- 
ed in the neglect of these sacred and important things; and whose 
heart, now seriously impressed, is bordering on despair, thinking 
that it has been put off until it is too late ? In the instance of 
mercy we have just been considering, let him learn that God is gra- 
cious and ready to forgive ; yen, our God is merciful. And if he 
will repent and believe, he may yet obtain that blessed hope which 
can support his spirit in the hour of heaviest trial. But let no one 
presume to defer this interest, because our brother found pardon at 
so late a day. Let his own words proclaim to you (he folly of 
such a course, and remember, that while he rejoiced in the pardon- 
ing mercy of God, sought and obtained at so late a period, he felt, 

that he had lost oceans of Jiappincss by not beginning earlier. 

These oceans of happiness you may enjoy, by devoting yourselves 
to God in early life. 

But as examples of this kind are comparatively rare, we learn 
secondly, that such manifestations of divine grace, are intended for 
the benefit of all within the range of whose observation they come. 
So St. Paul contemplated his conversion : (i For this cause I ob- 
tained mercy, that in me first Christ Jesus might show forth all 
long-suffering, for a ])altcrn to them which should hereafter be- 
lieve on hint to life everlasting." Here was a miracle of the fjrace 
of God ; a brand plucked from the burning; chosen ;, i a v. >., 1 to 
bear this grace, for the encouragement of all who may seek the Lord. 
This testimony comes not from one who was previously prejudi- 
ced in favor of Christianity, and from whom yon might have ex 
pected it — not from one whose sincerity you might doubt— not 
from one terrified into a confession of sin — but from one whose ear- 
ly prepossessions were hostile to Christianity, but who. from being 



14 

sceptical of its truth, became the subject of its power, and cheerful- 
ly testified of its excellence — from one who had been accustomed 
frankly and fearlessly to avow his opinions — from one whose in- 
tellectual vigor we all respected, and who retained that mental 
power to the last. lie now addresses you in those words which 
we have brought you from his dying bed, and calls upon you to 
turn unto the Lord and live. 

Lastly, we learn how complete is the victory which Christianity 
enables us to achieve over the powers of Death and the Grave. — • 
For while we contemplate the closing <ccne of our brother's life, 
and mark the good man as he dies, we cannot but feel that "the 
saying has been brought to pass, Death is swallowed up in victory. 
O Death ! where is thy sting? O Grave! where is thy victory? — 
The stinsr of Death is sin ; and the strength of sin is the law. But 
thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory, through our Lord 
Jesus Christ." 

" Oil, may we triumph so, 
" When all our warfare's past ; 
*' Arid (tying, find our latest foe 
" Under our feet at last !" 



15 



OBITUARY, 

Died, at bis residence in Athens, on Friday night tho 21st June, tho lion. 
AUGUSTIN S. CLAYTON. 

Judge Clayion was born in the State of Virginia, on tho 27th Nov. 1783. lie 
completed his educational the University of Georgia in 1- 14. 

Having pursued the study of tho law under the late Judge Carnes, he entered in 
early life upon its practice, and was successful, and rose to distinction at the dr. 

lie was chosen a representative of bis fellow-citizens, first in the lower and subse- 
quently in the higher branch ot" the State Legislature, where be imparted the im. 
press of bis mind to many of the laws under which wc now live. 

He was thrice elected Judge of the Superior Court of tho Western Circuit, which 
post he filled with honor and dignity. 

In 1832 he was elected a representative in Congress for tho State of Georgia, 
of which body he became a distinguished member. At the close of the List term for 
which he was elected, in conscqucnco of his declining health, he retired from pub. 
lie life, except the Trusteeship of the University of Georgia, which station be had 
filled from a very early period. 

He was highly distinguished for his correct literary taste and cbasto flowing wit, 
which his numerous political and other essays abundantly prove. 

In private life and in his social relations, the subject of this notice was charac- 
terized by the greatest affection and the most ardent desire to minister to tho happi. 
ness of those who were dependant upon him. 

For many j'ears Judge Clayton bad been exceedingly sceptical upon the suVjoct 
of the Christian Religion. His mind was, however, turned to i(s moro calm and 
deliberate investigation during his long and protracted illness. Then it was that 
he regarded his previous neglect as the greatest ingratitude, and under a deep con- 
viction of its truth and of his former errors, he made a public profession of faith in 
Christ, by uniting with the Methodist E. Church, in August, l~3r\ which ho stead- 
fastly and consistently maintained till bis death. 

Sensible that bis former opposition to Christianity might havo infected tho 
minds of many with whom be had associated, his most ardent desire appeared to 
be, to undo the evils of his former life in this regard. 

The closing scene of his life was one of extraordinary Christian triumph. He re- 
tained the exercise of bis intellectual powers with surprising vigor to the last, and 
many of his dying expressions will long be remembered bj his family and friends as 
precious memorials of the power of Divine Grace, in cheering tho spirit in its pa»- 
sagc to the tomb. 

Thus lived and died ono among tho most talented and distinguished citizens of 
tbo Stato of Georgia, whoso foibles will be forgotten, but whose many virtues will 
be remembered and cherished long after this brief obituary shall ha- 
away among the things that were. 



16 

Demosthenjan Society, June 22d, 1839. 

Whereas it has pleased Almighty God to take from us another, and one of tho 
most venerable and highly esteemed of our members, tlic Hon. AUGUSTIN S. 
CLAYTON, one of the earliest graduates, and for many years a Trustee of this 
Institution : and whereas we arc truly sensible of the loss which we have sustain, 
cd as a body, in the dcatli of one whose reputation as a philanthropist, a states, 
man, and a most valuable and worthy citizen, has always reflected honor and dig- 
nity upon our Society, 

Be it unanimously resolved, That we entertain the highest esteem and venera. 
tion for tiie deceased, and adopt the following resolutions. 

Resolved, That the members of this Society wear crape on the left arm for tho 
space of thirty days, and that the members of the Phi-Kappa Society be requested 
to unite with us in this testimony of regard. 

Resolved, That tho members of this Society attend at the residence of the de. 
ceased on to-morrow, to walk in procession to his place of burial, and that tho 
members of the Phi-Kappa Society be likewise requested to join us. 

Resolved, That these resolutions be published in the Gazettes of the town, and 
that a copy of the same be transmitted by the Commitioe, to the bereaved and deeply 
afflicted family of the deceased. 

Resolved, That this Society transact no business on to-day, and adjourn until 
Saturday, as an additional mark of respect to the deceased. 

E. W. HARRIS, 



A. S. ATKINSON, > C °™~ 
J. Fi^LDLK, 



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